Charles and Margaret

Carlos the twin, arrived at the Institute, knowing he had to face D. Fulgencio, his rapist, who had already warned him that today his punishment would end. As soon as his father left him in the courtyard, he headed to the fig tree and sat at the foot of the tree, thinking about what was coming.

He was lost in thought when he heard a female voice on the other side of the trunk, saying: Did it hurt a lot?

Carlos turned around, startled and surprised, and saw Margarita's face, the daughter of Don Venancio, the director... what hurt?

What's it like to be a man... to have something like that shoved up your ass, she said with a mischievous grimace that made her already unattractive face look even worse.

Carlos turned red as a tomato, he was deeply ashamed. She had seen him! Oh God, what humiliation!

And well? The girl asked again with a haughty tone.

I... I...

What's wrong with you? Speak up, boy! She said even more mockingly.

And you, what were you doing there if you can't leave the school? The young man's question momentarily disoriented the girl.

I... I... this time it was she who stuttered... I can, and I'll tell my father... she exclaimed to escape the situation.

No, not that, please! The boy begged, causing Margarita to regain control of the situation.

The bell interrupted them, and Carlos got up to go to class, but Margarita grabbed his arm and told him, after class, in the same spot where Fulgencio fucked you... don't be late!

Carlos nodded timidly and headed to the entrance, walking like a zombie, barely paying attention to his classmates' comments. After recess, it was time for D. Fulgencio's class, who took advantage of Carlos's distraction to ask him several questions he couldn't answer, which led to him having to go up to the platform and bend over, holding his ankles to receive a dose of rod.

SLAP, one thank you, sir.

SLAP, two thank you, sir.

The sound resonated in the classroom, but Carlos didn't feel or suffer, his mind only thinking about Margarita's face saying she knew.

SLAP, three thank you, sir.

SLAP, four thank you, sir.

The Tergal pants barely protected his butt, and the pain was piercing, but Carlos endured stoically.

SLAP, five thank you, sir.

SLAP, six thank you, sir.

SLAP, seven thank you, sir.

D. Fulgencio was savoring the punishment in a sadistic way, knowing the boy was at his mercy in every sense.

SLAP, eight thank you, sir.

SLAP, nine thank you, sir.

SLAP, ten thank you, sir.

Carlos repeated the litany of thank yous like an automaton.

SLAP, eleven thank you, sir.

SLAP, twelve thank you, sir.

There were 12 very hard lashes, the other students looked at each other in fear, no one wanted to be next, but at the same time, they were all surprised by Carlos's scarce rea...